The Consequences of Gambling
by Iskjif
Summary: AU:HPTR:Harry has a gambling problem. In desperate need of a job, he applies for a position as a farmhand at a farm owned by a man named Tom Riddle. He’s hired on sight and soon ends up as a semiwilling toy for the bored and sadistic farmer
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Consequences of Gambling  
**Author:** Iskjif  
**Beta:** Celena Amunet  
**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Tom Riddle (with Tom in loverly, sadistic, late-twenties form!)**  
Warnings:** Hrm… lets see… That one thing, known as slash, yaoi, or blatant guy on guy action. There's also gonna eventually be some cross-dressing, and BDSM. Let's not forget the violence and cursing (and no, not the spell kind…) in this chappie. Okay so unlike WWtBtBBWWD, this fic is rated M FOR A REASON! While my other fic is rated for future stuff, this one is gonna live up to its rating fast.  
**  
Summary: **AU:HPTR:Harry has a gambling problem. In desperate need of a job, he applies for a position as a farmhand at a farm owned by a man named Tom Riddle. He's hired on sight and soon ends up as a semi-willing toy for the bored and sadistic farmer.

**A/N: **Hallo my dears! This fic is brought to you courtesy of my evil plot bunny that likes to attack me whenever I try to sleep. It originally started as a PWP but as I tried to sleep it started growing a plot… Anyways! For those of you that read WWtBtBBWWD, don't worry! I'm not giving up on it, I just kinda have to clear my head of stuff every once in a while to keep my inspiration.

OoToO

Harry was in deep shit.

He quickly dodged into an alley and crouched behind a trashcan. Exactly three minutes later the man that Harry had been sure was following him walked by. Harry froze and tried not to breathe. When the man went out of sight, he ignored the urge to heave a sigh of relief. He was too alarmed for relief.

That had been the fifth suspicious guy that the young man had ditched today. There was definitely something seriously wrong.

After a decent amount of time Harry stood up and casually walked out of the alley.

It worried him that he was suddenly being pursued with such diligence. He hardly knew anyone who would have the resources to harass him like this. He scoffed. Well unless Monroe had-

Harry paused in his thoughts and frowned. Had Monroe decided that his debts were too large? He abruptly stopped walking and a chill crept up his spine. Maybe Monroe had found out that he hadn't held a job in months, that he was virtually homeless.

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt the barrel of a gun press against the small of his back. He knew that he couldn't be in enough trouble yet for them to just shoot, so there he stood, tensely waiting for whoever it was to identify themselves. Harry didn't have to wait long.

"Hey pretty boy"

"Wedge" Harry felt like crying, but he kept his tone firm regardless. Wedge was Monroe's right hand guy. If Wedge had been sent out, 'deep shit' didn't even begin to describe Harry's trouble.

Harry felt the gun dig into his back a little bit more forcefully and held back a flinch when he felt a hand on his hip.

"Monroe's really pissed with you, ya know" Wedge all but purred directly in his ear. Harry shivered in muted fear and he could hear a smirk in the other man's voice as he continued. "After your last loss, he did some thinkin'. The boss man realized that you had never actually paid anything on your larger debts, that you had just paid off little ones every once in a while to make it seem like you would eventually pay things off. He had us do some checking and what do we find? You haven't had a steady job in quite a while. As you can probably guess, this information has left Monroe a little less than happy…"

"So, what? He wants me dead now or somethin'?" Harry feigned indifference and then had to hold back a reaction as Wedge's hand wandered to his stomach to play with the edge if his shirt.

"Oh no, not yet. But if you don't get a decent job by the end of the week," He paused slightly, "Well I'm sure you can guess what we'll do to ya then…" The last part was said with a tone that suggested more than just death. Again Harry held back his reaction.

"Oh, and just because I like you, I'll tell you one thing," Wedge rasped his fingernails across Harry's lower stomach and the young man couldn't stop himself from shuddering. "Don't think that you aren't being watched, just because you can't sense the watcher…" Harry felt the gun scrape up his back and suddenly Wedge was gone.

Harry's legs gave out and he quickly found himself on his hands and knees.

OoToO

A/N: Okay! So posting on this thingy is gonna be kinda erratic because WWtBtBBWWD is my main priority, but I will try to be somewhat consistent cause I like this idea! And don't worry, no matter what I'm gonna finish this, 'cause I hate not finishing things. Well anyways! I hope you liked it! Tell me what you think! Even if you hate it, or you're angry at me for making this chappie so short!


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **The Consequences of Gambling  
**Author:** Iskjif  
**Beta:** Celena Amunet  
**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Tom Riddle (with Tom in loverly, sadistic, late-twenties form!)  
**Warnings:** Come on guys, I write slash… It's what I do, why would this be any different? …If cross-dressing, strange kinkyness or BDSM squicks you, do yourself a favor and avoid this fic, 'cause there's gonna be some of that later on.

**Summary:** AU:HPTR:Harry has a gambling problem. In desperate need of a job, he applies for a position as a farmhand at a farm owned by a man named Tom Riddle. He's hired on sight and soon ends up as a semi-willing toy for the bored and sadistic farmer. (ooooo new summary!)

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait on this one my dears. I've been sickeningly busy (what with work and all…) and it felt like I blinked and a month had gone by… **_winces _**I hope I didn't lose people's interest… Anyways! I'm so happy that I got so many reviews for such a short first chappie! It's really nice to see that people are reading.

I do believe that this is gonna be completely AU. I think that it'll be interesting to write the characters in such different circumstances. It'll be a challenge to put such constraints on them and still make them IC.

OoToO

Looking through the paper for job openings had to be the dullest thing ever.

Harry remembered how he had rushed to find a paper, ripping open the one he had found, searching for the job section.

Reading through said section had efficiently killed his urgency. His dire need for a job just couldn't seem to break the terrible monotony that was searching for an opening in the paper.

Most everything required experience and not the sort that he had. There were tons of ads seeking 'Medical Technicians', 'Credit Administrators', and 'Human Resource Associates'.

Most things blurred together with no sense.

Surprisingly enough, there were a few ads that stood out. Harry found himself snickering uncontrollably when he had come across an ad for a 'Senior Scietist'. What self-respecting scientist would work for a company that couldn't even spell in their ad? He was also amused to see an ad looking for a 'Vice President of a confidential company'.

Harry continued to read through the jobs section, feeling rather amused.

Said amusement quickly faded when he spotted an 'Untitled' ad for an unspecified job at a hospital. The ominous tone it seemed to have made him shiver. Why would they put so little information? He shook his head and moved on quickly.

Harry was about to give up on the paper, still feeling rather disturbed, knowing that his imagination couldn't be helping, when he caught sight of a plain, innocuous ad that seemed to draw his attention.

The ad was for a farmhand of all things. No experience was required and room and board was provided. To make it even better, the pay was fairly high. High enough that Harry was sure that it would keep Monroe off his back. Truly it was perfect.

Despite the fact that the job fit his needs so perfectly that it made him uncomfortable, Harry decided that he'd check it out. He quickly memorized the phone number given and the name of the man applying, a Mister Tom Riddle. After all, he didn't want to have to keep track of the paper.

Now all he needed was a phone.

Trying at one of the shops on the street was out of the question. Their phones were only for paying customers and becoming a paying customer was a rather hard thing to do when you didn't have any money.

Harry wracked his brain, trying to think of where he could use a phone. Most of the people he knew were about as well off as he was. Just as he was starting to get frustrated and a little desperate, an idea hit him.

There was that kid, who worked at the hotel, that owed him. He just had to remember the kid's name… It had been something like Don… was it Ron?

Harry nodded to himself. That sounded about right. He headed for the hotel, trying to not look like he was rushing.

Even though he had trouble remembering the kid's name, Harry had no such problem remembering why the kid owed him.

It had been about a year ago when he had come across a bunch of thugs harassing a girl. She was lithe and pale with fiery red hair, a real beauty. If he had had different leanings, he probably would have found her attractive. It turned out that she had pissed off a gang leader, one by the name of Draco Malfoy. She probably had forgotten to throw herself to the ground and proclaimed his absolute superiority.

All that Harry had to do was threaten to mention Malfoy's activities to the young man's father. They both knew that Harry knew the man from Monroe's place. The gang leader had been gone before Harry could say another word.

The girl, Ginny, had thanked Harry again and again for saving her. She brought him to meet her family, who had welcomed him like a long-lost son. It had been nice, but not something he could have stood for very long. Despite their warm welcome he had felt like an outsider.

The youngest boy, the kid that worked at the hotel, had insisted that he owed Harry and that if he needed anything, to come to him.

As he continued walking, Harry mused that it really wasn't quite right to think of him like a kid. He was Harry's age, but Harry always felt so much older.

Harry stopped then, realizing that he had reached the hotel. He dusted off his clothes, hoping it would make him seem just a bit more respectable. Luckily, Harry had a pair of jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt that didn't look too bad. He probably looked just like any other normal kid his age.

He walked into the hotel and headed for the front desk where he was sure the kid would be. He wasn't disappointed. The redhead was sitting at the desk looking extremely bored.

"Hey Ron." The kid's head snapped up and he sat up straight, trying to look alert. Mentally Harry cheered, he had guessed the kid's name right!

"Oi Harry, it's you! I thought you were my boss!" The kid grinned sheepishly, "Whatcha need mate?"

"Can I use your phone, Ron?" He leaned against the desk.

"Sure Harry!" He picked up the phone from in front of him and placed it next to Harry. "So who do you need to call?" the kid asked conversationally.

"Ah, I need a job and I'm answering an ad" Harry wrinkled his nose. He didn't really need to bother the kid with how _badly_ needed the job.

"Oh man, I know how that is…"

Harry smiled at the kid and picked up the phone. He punched in the number he had memorized from earlier. He mused that he'd find out what made the job less than perfect soon enough. Harry alternately tugged on and twined his finger in the cord, waiting as it rang.

The man that answered had the absolute sexiest voice he had ever heard.

He nearly drooled and swooned and all the man had said was 'Hello?" in a rather bored tone. Harry shook his head hard.

"Um, Mister Riddle?" Well at least his voice sounded mostly normal, if a bit breathier.

"Yeah?" Harry wondered how Riddle was able to pack so much sexiness into that one word.

"Oh… um… I saw your ad in the paper and um… yeah…" Damn it! He sounded like an idiot! A twitterpaited idiot…

The man chuckled lightly, obviously amused by Harry's attempt at a sentence and Harry had to lean against Ron's desk so his weak knees wouldn't send him to the floor.

"So you saw my ad? I take it that you're calling me to apply for the job, then?" His tone was mildly sarcastic.

"Uh yeah…" Harry felt like bashing his head into the desk. The man thought he was an idiot! At this rate he'd never get the job.

"What's your name kid?" Harry felt his face flush in embarrassment. Kid?

"It's, um, Harry, sir." Gah! It was like the man's utter sexiness had sucked out his brain!

"When can you do an interview?" The man's voice was business-like for the first time. Harry sat speechless for all of six seconds before he responded enthusiastically.

"Anytime sir! As soon as possible!" Harry winced at how eager he sounded. But Riddle seemed to take no notice of it.

"I'm in the city for business, how's tomorrow?" Riddle was still all business, whereas Harry could have cried it was so perfect.

"That's great sir!" He all but danced with enthusiasm.

"Sunny Café on Jameson good?" Harry marveled at how it hardly even felt like the man was asking him, so much as _commanding_ him to obey…

"Yes of course sir!" He felt like an incredible suck up but he couldn't seem to make himself mind that much.

"Perfect," Harry could practically hear the grin in the man's voice and he shivered, "I'll see you tomorrow morning at eleven then."

Before his twitterpaited brain would allow him to answer, he heard a click. Harry set the phone back in the receiver with a sigh. He turned around and leaned back against the desk with a hand over his eyes.

Ron stood up and leaned over beside Harry.

"Alright there mate?" his tone was very concerned. He probably thought Harry was sick.

"Yeah, I'm fine Ron. I'm fine." He heaved a sigh.

How on earth was he going to get through this interview?

OoToO

**A/N: **Merlin! That was a lot easier to write than I had expected once I just sat and wrote! Sometimes my family and their need to interrupt me repeatedly really threatens to shatter my tenuous sanity… _**sighs** _Well anyways, I hope that was worth the long wait! I'll try and update a bit more often! Please review! I'd love to hear what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **The Consequences of Gambling  
**Author:** Iskjif  
**Beta:** Masked Deception (formerly known as Celena Amunet)  
**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Tom Riddle (with Tom in loverly, sadistic, late-twenties form!)  
**Warnings:** Come on guys, I write slash… It's what I do, why would this be any different? …If cross-dressing, strange kinkyness or BDSM squicks you, do yourself a favor and avoid this fic, 'cause there's gonna be some of that later on.  
**Summary:** AU :HPTR: Harry has a gambling problem. In desperate need of a job, he applies for a position as a farmhand at a farm owned by a man named Tom Riddle. He's hired on sight and soon ends up as a semi-willing toy for the bored and sadistic farmer.

**A/N: **haha, I like how even though I lurve Snakey!Voldie, I have yet to actually use him in a fic… haha… I'm a dork. XD

But yesyes! To business!

I'm sorrysorrysorry it's been so horrifically long since I last updated! Really there's no excuse for that kind of neglect, but writer's block does that to you, ya know? I lurve all you guys who reviewed and all of you that come back get plushies and candy!

I hope that this chappie doesn't disappoint! Loves!

OoToO

Harry sighed and rubbed his hands together quickly to rid himself of a little nervous energy.

He was waiting anxiously in the Sunny Café on Jameson Avenue just as his possible employer had specified.

It was ten minutes after eleven o'clock.

The teen began tapping his foot to relieve some of the pressure he felt mounting, but that only made him feel worse for some reason. He suddenly felt a need for a different kind of motion.

Harry jumped out of his chair and began pacing.

He looked around for some kind of distraction but there were no other customers in the place. The teen glanced over to the counter but didn't think that striking up a conversation with the sour faced woman who stood there would be too good of an idea.

She looked at him as if he were committing a felony. Probably because he was waiting to meet someone without buying anything.

So he was left to wait.

Nothing interesting to look at.

No one to talk to.

He was going absolutely mad.

The dark-haired teen tried to find some way to reassure himself, to make himself calm down.

Harry had told himself the night before that the effect that this Mister Riddle had had on him would have diminished by this point. It had been the only way he had been able to sleep.

But the effect hadn't diminished in the least… In fact it had gotten worse…

Harry stopped just short of pulling at his hair. This was ridiculous! All he had done was talk to the man _once._ He didn't even know what he looked like.

The teen laughed nervously. The man was probably hideous, maybe even deformed. No one who had a voice like that was ever attractive… he trailed off in his own thoughts.

Harry sighed and slowed in his pacing. "That's it," he muttered, "a face for radio…" he chuckled lightly at the cliché and pointedly ignored the sour woman, who was now giving him a strange look.

Harry finally began to calm down. Just because the man had the sexiest- had a nice voice- didn't mean that he would be at all attractive.

Saying this again and again to himself, Harry slowed more and more in his pacing until he finally stopped.

He let out another sigh.

Before his thoughts had a chance to continue though, they were interrupted as the door chime sounded. The teen turned towards the door in curiosity and had to hold in a noise of surprise as the sexiest man he had ever seen walked into the café.

They locked eyes and before he could stop himself, Harry found himself looking the man up and down.

The man had dark hair much like Harry's, only it had a cleaner, much more fashionable cut and a slight wave to it. He had piercing, deep brown eyes and full, almost pouty, lips.

As Harry's gaze began to travel down without his mental permission, he saw a slight smirk twist onto the man's lips.

He shivered involuntarily.

The man was slim and well dressed, wearing a charcoal suit and a deep burgundy tie. And as the man began to approach, Harry realized that the man was a good four and a half inches taller than he himself was.

It took all of the dark-haired teen's composure not to openly drool.

The man's smirk grew in intensity as he approached. He stopped just inside the teen's personal space.

"So," drawled that same delicious voice from yesterday afternoon, "you must be Harry."

Said teen felt like fainting right then and there, but instead he managed, "Um- yeah…"

Mister Riddle's smirk took on a slightly wry twist. "Come, let's sit down." The man took Harry by the elbow and led him to a little table. The dark-haired teen was almost surprised when the man didn't pull out his chair and shove him down into it too.

The older man was completely dominating the situation, and Harry couldn't bring himself to mind all that much.

Harry flopped down into a chair at the table and stole a glance at his interviewer.

Mister Riddle shrugged off his charcoal suit jacket and Harry couldn't help watch somewhat dazedly. He felt his mouth grow dry. All the man had done was take off his jacket!

The man folded the jacket and gracefully tossed it onto the back of his chair. He then set himself down on the chair and somehow seemed to lounge in the tiny, straight-backed thing.

Riddle turned his gaze to the flustered teen and watched Harry try to compose himself, smirk still in place.

Harry was almost there, when what little calm the dark-haired teen had managed to gather to himself, was quickly scattered again. His potential employer causally loosened his tie and Harry had to fight his jaw to keep it from falling open of its own accord.

Was the man trying to drive him insane?

Harry sighed to himself. Everything the dark-haired man had done so far could have been taken completely innocently.

Inwardly Harry cursed. Why did the man have to be so bloody attractive?

The man again fixed his piercing gaze on the teen and it was at that moment that Harry realized that he had been mistaken on Mister Riddle's eye color. On closer examination he realized the reason for Riddle's choice of tie. The man's eyes were a deep, almost bloody, burgundy with only a slight hint of brown.

Harry shivered.

Definitely a little more interesting than just plain brown eyes.

"So." The man paused as Harry jumped, obviously startled by Riddle's unexpected utterance.

The dark-hair man chuckled lightly and Harry couldn't stop himself from blushing. This, of course, only seemed to amuse the man more.

The teen looked away in embarrassment. How could he have just been gazing into the man's eyes like some kind of love-struck fool?

When Harry finally felt his blush leave him he looked back up at the man, just in time to see him run his fingers through his hair. Mister Riddle smirked lightly and continued as he had planned before Harry's entertaining reaction.

"So, why did you decide to apply for this job?"

Harry couldn't get over the way this man all but purred everything he said.

"Well…" mentally the dark-hair teen kicked himself. Question! Riddle had asked him a question! And as Harry tried to formulate an answer, he felt compelled to tell this man the truth.

There was just something in the man's eyes that made him want to be honest. He also had a slight suspicion that Riddle would be able to tell if he was lying anyways. So when he opened his mouth it would have to be absolute truthfulness that came out.

"Actually Sir, I have a bit of a money problem… I have some gambling debts…" Harry paused nervously as Mister Riddle raised an eyebrow, smirk now gone, but the dark-haired teen quickly rushed on. "I just need a job to reassure some guys that I can get the money to pay them back and, well, your ad caught my eye…"

Riddle glanced casually at his nails and then looked back at Harry sharply.

"It sounds like your real problem is with gambling."

Bluntly put.

That didn't seem to have gone over too well. The teen let out a shuddery breath. His potential employer gazed fixedly at him apparently wanting some sort of response. Harry had to mentally shake himself. This man could've been a bloody brilliant interrogator if he had wanted to be.

"Well Sir, I probably wouldn't be going into town too often, right?" He continued at the man's nod. "Well I can swear to be on my best behavior with the other farmhands too. So you don't have to worry about me doing anything."

Mister Riddle shrugged and Harry was nearly struck dumb by how sexy the simple movement was.

"It's a small farm, there aren't any other farmhands." Riddle murmured apparently already bored with this tangent.

"Well then there you go! There's no way it would cause any problems!" Harry held back a wince. He sounded much to eager for this job.

The dark-haired man's smirk came back in full force and the teen was struck with the fact that the smirk was almost painfully sexy.

He cursed inwardly. Everything about this man made him wish that Riddle would just ravish him.

Right in the coffee shop on the table sounded like a fine place.

Mister Riddle shifted and folded his arms.

"Alright, that aside, just what makes you think you're," his eyes raked Harry's figure, "qualified for this job?"

The dark-haired teen shivered. But then what the man had said registered and he blinked in absolute confusion.

Harry felt a tinge of dismay begin to creep up on him.

"But Mister Riddle, Sir, didn't the ad say that no experience was required?"

The man's expression took on a hint of condescension and Harry couldn't help thinking that it was just as sexy as the smirk.

"In all honesty, yes, it does say that, but there's no telling what kind of labor I might require of you… and you are," again he glanced at Harry's slight build, "quite petite… So I ask again, what makes you think you're qualified?"

This time Harry blushed furiously.

The teen sputtered slightly, "I may not look it, but I'm very strong…"

Riddle raised his eyebrows and hmmed.

"Indeed?" he looked quite amused.

Harry blew out his air angrily. "Well you don't exactly look like the farmer type yourself!"

The dark-hair man chuckled, openly amused at having gotten a rise out of the young man.

"True I suppose. The farm was a recent inheritance of mine," his expression turned rather wry. "Really I've always been more of a businessman…"

Harry valiantly fought off another blush, his anger instantly cooled by Riddle's response.

"Oh…" the teen tried to keep it from being a mutter, but failed miserably. He felt rather disappointed and looked away from the attractive man. How could he have blown up and said something so rude and potentially insulting? This was a job interview!

The next words from Riddle's mouth were probably going to be something along the lines of 'I'll contact you to let you know if you get the job. Goodbye.' And then Harry would never hear from the man again.

Harry mussed up his hair a bit and heaved a sigh of frustration.

He heard the dark-haired man take a small breath, but couldn't bring himself to look back up at the man. He knew what was coming.

"How soon can you start?"

The teen's head snapped up and he gapped at the man in shock.

Mister Riddle snerked at the expression on Harry's face and the teen noticed a strange gleam come into the older man's eyes.

Harry shook his head violently to promote some coherent thought. He wondered blushingly if Riddle could hear his brain rattle.

"Erm… excuse me?" he all but squeaked.

The man smirked. "I asked you how soon you could start, boy."

Any annoyance the teen might have felt at being called a boy was wiped away as the beginning of the sentence finally pierced through to his brain.

"As soon as possible, Sir!" Harry winced slightly at how desperate he sounded.

Riddle made no comment on the near violence of the dark-haired teen's response. He merely looked mildly amused.

"How about now?" the man purred

Harry could have died. "That would be great!" the teen wasn't the least bit embarrassed over his enthusiasm now.

The man nodded and stood up gracefully, grabbing his jacket.

"Come on then."

The teen blinked. Wait a minute- "Erm… you mean right now? Where exactly is this farm of yours?"

Riddle scrutinized his watch. "Well, if we leave right now, we should get there just after dark."

He glanced back up at Harry and his expression quickly grew bored when the teen continued to sit in his seat.

"Did you change your mind about the job then?" His voice carried a tone that matched his expression.

The teen gave his head a shake to clear it and stood up still feeling a bit shocked.

"Well, no Sir, I just didn't think you meant _right now_, Sir. It _is_ just a little bit unusual…" Harry trailed off as the dark-haired man raised an eyebrow.

The teen tensed; the clear disdain and sarcasm on the man's face gave a strong clue of what the response he was about to receive would be like.

"What, you think you're the first person I've interviewed?" Riddle's scorn colored his words heavily. "I've been in town interviewing for the last three days. I've found my farmhand and now I'm going home. You don't seem like you could get that kind of transportation on your own and I'm certainly not going home so that I can come back for you."

Harry winced.

_Ouch_.

This man was blunt when provoked.

Mister Riddle continued to hold Harry's gaze, his contempt still very visible.

"So, Harry, do you want the job?"

Said teen blushed. He had been focusing entirely too hard on the way that Riddle had sneered his name. How could the man still be so sexy, when he obviously thought so little of Harry?

The dark-haired teen shook his head and responded quickly despite his embarrassment. "Of course Sir"

Riddle nodded and headed towards the exit. Harry hurried after him, feeling a bit like he was scurrying to keep up with the taller man's long stride.

The teen couldn't help but feel just a little bit apprehensive.

Despite the logic of what the older man had said, Harry still felt a little weird as he approached Riddle's car.

He had never done anything like this and he kept wondering if he weren't walking to his doom.

OoToO

**A/N:** ack! It's done! That was a lot of work for so little **_sniffles_** Sorry about the length my Loves, I tried to make it longer, but it wasn't as good… but yesyes! I hope you enjoyed!

Please remember to review! I'd love to know what you lovelies think!

**A/N 2:** I just wanted to appologize to all of you who didn't get review responses for the last chapter. I'm going to go back and respond to all of you. I'll catch the anonymous reviewers on chapter 4! Loves!


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:**The Consequences of Gambling  
**Author:** Iskjif  
**Beta:**Sadly... I'm without one for now...  
**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Tom Riddle (with Tom in loverly, sadistic, late-twenties form!)  
**Warnings:** Come on guys, I write slash… It's what I do, why would this be any different? …If cross-dressing, strange kinkyness or BDSM squick you, do yourself a favor and avoid this fic, 'cause there's gonna be some of that later on. Also, watch out for occasional language. That Harry's got quite a mouth on him sometimes…

**Summary:** AU :HPTR: Harry has a gambling problem. In desperate need of a job, he applies for a position as a farmhand at a farm owned by a man named Tom Riddle. He's hired on sight and soon ends up as a semi-willing toy for the bored and sadistic farmer.

**A/N:**Okay, okay. I know I suck…. I can't begin to apologize for, what, like two years or so without an update? Yes. I definitely suck. Punishments are in order. Don't hold back, I can take it… and I'll even promise to try not to enjoy it too much… **ahem** haha… yeah… anyways!

For those who might have forgotten, **in the last chappie: **Harry met the strange and sexy Mr. Riddle and finally got a job! He got into the stranger's car and went off to God knows where. His mother would be so proud.

And without further adieu, the CHAPPIE!

OoToO

Light. Shining right in his eyes.

Harry flinched awake and immediately felt disoriented.

For some reason he was in a rather soft bed. He tried shaking his head hoping that it would wake up his brain, but this tactic failed miserably. The teen glanced around the room blearily.

It wasn't a very large room that he was in. There was just a little space around the edges of the bed he was laying in. The walls were off-white and blank of decoration. To one side of his bed, the wall had a small window with white curtains that were mostly shut. That was where the stabbing shaft of light had come from. Harry shook his fist at the offending drapes and then felt a little silly.

At the foot of his bed was a wardrobe, a rather nice one… Not dwelling on that, the dark-haired teen's attention then turned to the other side of the bed where there was a small empty bookcase and a door.

Harry sat up and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. The teen let his hands slide down his face until he was looking through parted fingers.

He was stuck in observation mode.

He sat there like that for a few minutes before his brain finally caught up with his body.

That job! He had gotten that job. He was in Riddle's farmhouse. He'd nearly been a zombie when they had reached the place the night before. The stress of the company and the monotony of the scenery had conspired to exhaust him. Riddle must have led him to this room then.

Harry rubbed his eyes, recalling how long and awkward the drive here with his new employer had been.

Of course the first thing Riddle had to have asked, when the teen had gotten into that nice car that he couldn't name, was if he needed to 'gather any belongings' from his 'home'. He'd felt like such a bum telling such an obviously successful person that what he had with him, pretty much just his clothes and the contents of his pockets, was all that he had.

The man had just given him a mild, sexy, condescending smile and started the car.

For the first couple hours, Riddle had engaged him with questions about his background and his life and even though the man was doing all the questioning, he still managed to seem bored. Like it was just a chore that he had to get out of the way.

Every time Harry had started to feel comfortable with the man, Riddle would say or do something that would leave the teen gaping. As if the fact that the man was sexier than sin wasn't enough, he also seemed to be rather odd.

Harry shook his head. The most uncomfortable part of the ride had been when his employer had tired of questioning him. The teen had had to resist the urge to start questioning Riddle at that point. Somehow he had had the feeling that any questions he would have asked would have been unwelcome.

So he had sat there, shifting uncomfortably, full of questions, watching Riddle's every move, while trying not to look like he was watching the dark-haired man and trying to look completely at ease for the remaining hours. Remembering to breathe at the right intervals had also proven difficult.

He would have never guessed that a long car ride could have been so exhausting.

Harry ruffled his fingers through his unruly hair. He had a feeling that he probably needed to go find Riddle and attempt some conversation.

He was also suddenly all but starving…

Decision made, The dark-haired teen rolled out of bed reluctantly, stretched and heard something crack in his back. He headed for the door and wondered idly where his shoes were.

The teen shuffled out of the room and into a hallway with a few doors and a staircase at the end. Before he felt led to investigate any of the rooms, his nose was assailed with the smell of breakfast. Harry just barely held himself back from taking the stairs at a dead run.

Once he hit the bottom of the stairs he let his nose lead him farther until he reached the kitchen.

His train of thought was quickly derailed at this point.

Riddle was sitting at the table drinking coffee. He wasn't just drinking it though; he seemed entirely focused, as if drinking that coffee was the only thing he had to do in the world. Somehow Harry found that strangely intense focus to be dreadfully sexy.

His mouth was dry as he watched the man bring the cup to his lips, watched him sip, watched him swallow thoughtfully. It wasn't that he was enjoying the coffee. It was almost as if he was so bored that he was desperately clinging to something, anything that he could find to do.

"Um… Do you know where my shoes are?" Harry winced. He wished that he had been a little less inane in his attempt to break the silence.

Riddle set his cup on the table, completely unfazed by the interruption.

"So you're awake now" the dark-haired man drawled. "I was wondering when you'd grace me with your presence."

Harry found himself blushing. "Heh, sorry, I guess I was really tired."

His employer regarded him with a raised eyebrow. He found himself looking away, feeling rather uncomfortable.

"Your shoes are by the door." Harry looked up in surprise. "I had you take them off last night. The yard is a mess of mud and I didn't want it getting tracked all the way up the stairs."

The teen blinked, "Oh…"

Riddle smirked crookedly. "You must have been tired if you didn't remember me snapping at you to take them off."

"Yeah… I was pretty much half dead last night" Harry grinned sheepishly.

The dark-haired man gave the teen a strange look and continued. "Your breakfast's on the counter if you're hungry…"

The instant the last word left Riddle's mouth, Harry was at the counter inhaling the food that had been left on a plate there. He ate so fast that he couldn't have said what the food was; it had just been a blur. The teen leaned back against the counter and realized that Riddle was looking at him with an extremely amused look on his face. He felt his face turn red yet again and coughed.

"Have anything to drink?"

Riddle continued to look amused. "On the counter."

Harry looked back to the counter and sure enough, there was a glass of orange juice. He picked it up slowly, determined to drink it in a civilized fashion. He met Riddle's eyes as he took his first drink. The teen rolled the juice around on his tongue, enjoying it as much as possible. But he was soon drawn back to watching Riddle watch him. The man was still deeply amused but there was also a certain intensity as well as a little bit of something else in his gaze. Having the man watch him so intently, even when he was doing something so _mundane_ felt incredibly intimate.

The dark-haired teen felt himself flush again and quickly downed the rest of the juice in an attempt to hide it.

Riddle chuckled lightly and shifted so he was leaning back in his chair.

"So we have a few errands to run today…"

Harry blinked, brought out of his contemplation of the dark-haired man's sexiness. "Oh really? What kinds of errands?"

The man shifted again, stood up, picked up his mug, and headed for Harry.

"Well, I've got some business in town, a package to pick up, some papers to sign…" at this point Riddle was severely invading his personal space. Was he going to pin him against the counter?

"And," Harry's breath hitched as he had to look up at Riddle to continue watching him speak. He was so close, just another inch and the teen would be pinned between the hard surface he was leaned against and his sexy employer, "we have to get you fitted for your uniform."

Riddle reached behind him and - grabbed the teen's used plate and took a step back. The dark-haired teen knew that his mouth had to be hanging open, but he couldn't summon the brainpower to shut it yet.

The man grinned at Harry, clearly knowing what the teen had been expecting and his reaction to it. Riddle set his mug on the plate and grabbed the glass from Harry's numb fingers.

He set the dishes in the sink and started out of the kitchen. When he got to the doorway he turned back to Harry.

"Come boy, we should leave now."

The teen followed him to the door; still feeling a bit shocked, he slipped on his shoes. He then followed the man out to the car.

The yard was pretty muddy.

As the car started up and they started off, Harry decided that instead of watching Riddle, he'd just look out the window. That way he wouldn't have to pretend that he wasn't looking at the man. He also wouldn't have to work as hard to hide his growing embarrassment over what had just happened in the kitchen.

So he sat there brooding, not really watching the scenery until something Riddle had said finally registered.

Fitted for a uniform?

He finally turned to look at Riddle.

"I'm getting a uniform?"

That stunning smirk slid onto his employer's face. "Yes. One of our errands is getting you fitted for your uniform. I won't have you working on my farm in just anything."

"Oh…"A bit of uncomfortable silence followed, well at least it was uncomfortable to Harry. Riddle seemed perfectly cheerful.

"It really took you until now to realize what I said?" There was a darkly amused edge to the dark-haired man's voice.

"Well, it was a bit difficult to concentrate on what you were _saying_…" So whiney… Why did he have to sound so whiney?

Riddle spared the teen a glance and a slightly evil smirk that left him with a shiver crawling up his spine. The man was enjoying Harry's discomfort a little too much and the teen couldn't help finding it just as sexy as it was embarrassing.

Just when the dark-haired teen was feeling like he couldn't take it anymore, feeling so embarrassed and so turned-on, the car pulled into town and stopped at a shop.

Grateful for the distraction from his situation, Harry turned his attention to the little shop.

He immediately regretted it.

The place was garishly decorated with all sorts of pink and black fabrics, stars, hearts, spiders and bats. The sign read _Pramnion Somnus_.

Guck! He couldn't believe that a man like Tom Riddle would be caught dead in a place like this.

The dark-haired man must have seen the look on his face because he wrinkled his nose.

"Awful I know, but she's the only seamstress in 50 miles."

Harry nodded solemnly and followed Riddle in like one marching to his doom.

Inside, leaning against the wall behind a counter was a gorgeous woman with dark, heavy lidded eyes and long flowing dark hair. Her image would have been perfect if the ridiculous witch outfit she was wearing hadn't ruined it. She looked up with a bored expression until she saw who her customers were. Then a wide smile spread across her face.

"Thomas! I was hoping you'd be back soon!" the woman scurried around the counter and stood with her hands clasped in front of her.

Riddle smiled and replied gracefully, "Ah, Bella it has been too long…"

The woman, Bella, made a pleased sound and held out her hand. Riddle took it and kissed it as if with great pleasure. Harry stood and watched in mild, muted horror. And when she looked at his employer with lust clearly showing in her eyes, the teen felt something like anger cause his eyes to narrow.

The dark-haired man pulled away, making a great show of reluctance. "Bella, it pains me to say that I am here on business." It was at this point that the woman seemed to finally notice Harry.

"Oh!" she cooed, "Who is this lovely darling you've brought me?" She smiled, her slightly predatory look at odds with her overly sweet tone.

Harry suddenly felt very nervous.

"This is the boy that I hired to be my farmhand. He's here to be fitted for his uniform." The look Riddle gave her was sharp, as if giving her some sort of warning.

Bella clapped her hands. "How exciting! Well come on darling!" she was practically singing her baby talk at this point. "Fittings are done back here!"

She disappeared into a back room and Harry found that he was frozen with terror. He didn't like this woman at all. Riddle gave him a look and when the teen didn't respond, the man grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the back room.

Once inside, Harry had to fight a bit of claustrophobia that had nothing to do with the size of the little room. The woman was still giving him that awful predatory look that made him want to run. The teen felt himself move a little closer to his employer.

The woman was now looking him up and down in a way that made him feel exposed.

"Now, sweet-ums," she was still using that horrifying baby voice. "You're going to need to remove those awful jeans. I'll never be able to measure you properly with those on."

The teen felt the blood drain from his face and looked desperately at Riddle. The man merely regarded him with a raised eyebrow, as if saying, 'what's your problem?'

The woman giggled behind her hand, but the childish gesture seemed malicious.

"Are you too shy for a fitting dear?" The question sounded like some kind of accusation and he felt his pride rise up.

"Oh course not!" He growled.

"Oh?" was all she said with both eyebrows raised.

Feeling aggravated that she didn't believe him, he quickly unbuttoned his pants and slid them down, kicking them off his feet. But as he stood there under Bella's and now Riddle's gazes, he realized that she had tricked him. Somehow she'd known just the buttons to push.

"Come here now darling." This was said in a purr and he shuddered.

After a pointed look from his employer he went over to her.

She smiled widely, "I want you to hold your arms straight out to your sides and spread your legs, sweety." Something about her tone made him feel dirty. He looked over at Riddle with a pleading look but found no help. The man's gaze smoldered, but with what, the teen couldn't be sure.

So with a sinking feeling in his stomach, the dark-haired teen did as she said. She took out a piece of measuring tape and a clipboard, setting the clipboard on a box. It began innocently enough.

The woman measured around his chest, neck, and upper arms, and then she wrote it down. She measured the smallest part of his waist and his hips with his leg together and apart, then wrote those measurements down.

But that was when he started to get uncomfortable again.

She knelt in front of him, smoothing her measuring tape down his leg. Outwardly there wasn't much difference in the way the woman was measuring the length of his leg, but something about it seemed different, more perverse.

Next she measured around his upper thigh smoothing her finger all the way along the tape as if counting the lines. He eeped when he realized what she was doing and his gaze shot to Riddle. The objection he had been planning to voice left him when he took in the expression on the man's face. He was watching what she was doing with startling intensity, his attention focused on the line Bella was following.

Harry shivered. Was that intensity for Bella or himself?

The woman slid the tape off his leg.

"All done baby-doll!" still sickly sweet.

The teen heaved a sigh and snatched up his pants, quickly slipping them back on. He hugged himself feeling rather violated.

"Now Thomas, I can have your boy's uniforms for you in couple days." She shrugged and added, "I'll have one of the girls work on it."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Bellatrix, you can have it finished tomorrow afternoon, and you know it."

She sighed, "Oh Thomas, you're no fun anymore… Where's your lovely sense of humor?" she paused dramatically.

"Alright, I'll have them tomorrow."

Riddle smiled. "Good. I look forward to seeing the final design."

The woman had started digging through boxes and waved her hand. "Yes, yes. I have to work."

"Of course Bella." The teen was mildly bothered by the affection with which Riddle said this, but before he could react the man had left the room. Harry, not wanting to be left alone with the psychotic woman, scurried after him.

When they reached the car, the teen was feeling a little shocked that Riddle had yet to comment on what had gone on in the woman's back room. Had that look been for Bellatrix then? Was that why his employer didn't seem to care how violated Harry felt?

The teen threw himself in the passenger seat with a huff. He felt mildly hurt over Riddle's lack of caring but he also felt some of the anger from earlier.

Was it jealousy? He'd never been all that jealous of a person, but then he'd never been so attracted to a person either…

It had to be jealousy. It made him angrier just thinking about the way those two had interacted. Bella this, Bella that. Thomas this, Thomas that. All Riddle ever called him was 'boy'. That was so demeaning compared to 'Bella'.

Harry was interrupted from his angry brooding as the car came to a sudden stop. They had come to another building. The teen looked to his employer a frown still in place.

Riddle was smirking at him in a mildly patronizing fashion.

"Are you coming inside?" The question oozed with amusement and condescension. But Harry was too angry to think it was sexy.

At least that's what he kept telling himself.

Harry finally broke the mild stare-down he was having with Riddle.

"No." He managed sullenly.

The man shrugged and slid out of the car gracefully. "Suit yourself." And with that he just walked off towards the entrance of what was apparently the post office.

The dark-haired teen shifted grumpily. Riddle could have at least pretended that he cared what Harry did. It rubbed him particularly raw after how the man had treated that awful woman. So pleased to see her, so affectionate. When he really thought about it, it made him sick. Maybe they were lovers. Maybe Riddle had just been toying with him, leading him on.

He let himself be disgusted and angry for a few minutes.

But then reason seemed to return to him and he deflated a bit. Leading him on? He'd only just met the man yesterday morning. It was ridiculous to be so upset about this man he hardly knew. He truly couldn't imagine those two being _lovers_. She wasn't classy enough for Riddle. And even if they _were_lovers, the man was his employer, and the teen shouldn't really care.

Said employer took that moment of determined not caring to reappear from the post office. He shouldn't care, but as he watched the man slide into the driver's seat, he found that he did care, and it was frustrating.

Harry continued his musings, not exactly brooding, but not happy either. He just knew that this job was going to be hell if he had to deal with Riddle's sexiness while constantly wondering if the man was seeing that seamstress.

The rest of the afternoon was spent that way, driving to random places to get random things like animal feed, and nails. After the second place Riddle had stopped asking if Harry would come in and the teen was somewhat glad of that. He was quite content to sit and wallow in his unhappiness and frustration.

After about six or seven stops the dark-haired teen was getting tired of sitting and wallowing. He turned to the man that he had been pointedly ignoring for the last few hours.

"Are there many more errands today?"

Riddle regarded him with a bland expression on his face. "That last place was it for the day."

"Oh." he turned and looked out the window. The scenery was just too non-descript, he would have never guessed that they were already headed back to the farm.

The dark-haired man let out a heavy sigh and Harry jumped, not expecting the man to make any noise.

"What exactly is your problem, you're not very much fun today, boy."

Harry found himself blinking rapidly in response. That had been much more direct than he was beginning to expect from his employer. He was so caught off guard that he found himself actually answering the question.

"What is it between you and that… _seamstress_?" The word seamstress tasted like a dirty word in his mouth. Abruptly, the teen was struck by what he had said and found a slight flush of mortification creep up his face.

His employer's response was a deeply amused snort followed by a smirk.

"Oh, so that's it…" Harry felt the man's focus on him intensify, though his eyes never left the road.

He waited uncomfortably for Riddle to continue.

"You really are a fool. She's nothing to me."

The dark-haired teen sputtered indignantly at the insult, but before he had gotten out an angry response, the second part of the farmer's statement registered.

"Nothing?" the teen's voice was soft with confusion.

Riddle sneered in disgust, "Do you truly believe that I would behave like that? Simpering and saccharine sweet? And towards that sycophantic whore no less?"

Harry blinked slowly in response to the man's vehemence and let it sink in for a moment.

The teen crossed his arms over his chest, "Well what did you expect me to think?" He felt a pout work its way onto his face. Just. Great. "You were being so nice to her, all gentlemanly and attentive…"

In response, the dark-haired man snorted, his good humor apparently returning.

Silence reigned for the rest of the ride, short though it was. Harry was almost pleased to note that it was one of the more comfortable silences that they had shared. It wasn't broken until they were on the porch of Riddle's farmhouse approaching the door.

"Shoes off." His dark-haired employer snapped out the short phrase like a command and Harry found himself instant complying before he had even realized it. He wrinkled his nose and hopped up, trailing after the man. Upon entering the house, he was shoved rather forcefully against the wall. He gasped at the unexpected move. The teen glanced up at Riddle who was smirking evilly, apparently enjoying the shock that was on his face.

Harry took a moment to notice that, though the older man wasn't touching him anymore, the way he had his hands on either side of the dark-haired teen's head and the way Riddle had placed his body, completely invading his personal space, left him unable to escape. True, he probably could have slipped away if he were willing to brush up against the man's lithe body, but that held it's own dangers. So he was left, staring up at his captor face, most likely wearing an expression much like a trapped and terrified little mouse.

His employer turned captor chuckled darkly, enjoying Harry's discomfort and sending a chill down the teen's spine.

"Wha-" He managed to finally gasp out before being interrupted.

"I just want to make a few things clear…" Riddle said in almost a purr, leaning even closer to his captive so that his breath puffed on the dark-haired teen's ear. The only response was another shiver.

"That… pathetic creature," the man was almost whispering, his voice hushed and somehow intimate, "that you were oh so jealous of, is not even _remotely_ my type. She disgusts me." Harry flinched at the way that the man hissed the last right into his ear.

When the teen had no further answer, the dark-haired man pulled back just the slightest bit and continued.

"No, my interests lie in… other areas…" as Riddle spoke his eyes raked down Harry's body before returning his gaze to the boy's face, smirking wickedly as the action brought an involuntary flush to his captive's face.

He again came closer, breathing in the darkly blushing teen's ear.

"_Remember_," This was said harshly, causing Harry to twitch slightly. "I am no gentleman, and I am _not_ nice." That last word was said with a slight sneer.

Suddenly, as quickly as he had been trapped, the teen was free.

Riddle was gracefully heading for the kitchen, leaving his employee weak-kneed, flushed, and gasping against the wall.

Before Harry could regain his composure, his dark-haired tormenter turned back to him just before leaving the room.

"Hungry for dinner?" the man flashed a mock-sweet smile to the teen. Somehow, despite how flawless the expression was, something twisted seeped out of it

Harry managed to jerkily shake his head 'no', but as Riddle finally left the room, there was only one phrase that his mind could settle on.

_Well, shit._

OoToO

**A/N:** Whew… So it took me a while to get over my lack-of-beta-ness, but yes! TcoG returns! Please excuse any mistakes! I hope that you all enjoyed! I also hope that I haven't lost everyone! Please review my loverlies, even if it's to say that you hated this chappie! I know I don't deserve a single review, but they're necessary for my continued good health!

Thanks to my wonderful anonymous reviewers: Amanda, Xelena, and mandi!

Oh! And before I forget! Thank you to all the darlings who have added me or this story to your alerts/favs! It gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling every time that I see that someone has added me!

LOVESx100,000!


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